Have I?

Have I? 
Have I done it? 

Have I done it all?

There was the copter

Flying over green fields

In the warm, quiet breeze. 

Visually, sensually fulfilling my   


Watching the cows and goats 

Meandering about their grazing 


Placid lakes replenished by crystal 

Travels through ancient French 


Speaking broken Lanqueduc 

To The artisans and shopkeepers

Drinking liquid fermented grape 


Breads garnished with Camembert.

Perusing fields of violets 

Basking before an emptied monastery
Wooden pens taking shape on an old 


Turns, curves, tenons, develop 

     beneath the iron lathe tool

Polished to satin sheen

Sanded and waxed with certainty

To its final becoming form,

To hold, caress, scribble 

Memorable, persistent sonnets

To that special, only loved one.
The year of Fencing

Fast and artful footing

Brandishing the slender silver sword

Deftly, adroitly, for that final flourish

Landing at its devilish destination,

Marking the ultimate winning stroke.
Daily read His holy Scriptures

Written for me for contemplation

Marked with heavenly meditation

In constant expectation

Of eternal life in His midst

Living in that glorious room

Built for me in his Wondrous kingdom.

I await Your calling 

To Eternity.

  • Johnkul007 2015

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